three parts to a fucked up life
by Charlie Baytes
Summary: he was average, then he was the king, and then he was nothing. Ryan-centric because I love him
Ryan considers his time at Dunder Miflin in three parts: the time before, when he was a lowly temp. And then a lowly salesman. Time spent running away from Michael Scott and dreaming of a life in the business world. The time spent at the top, which was cocaine and booze-ridden. Stressful and awful on his liver. Nobody liked him, he didn't even like him. And the time a little bit after, when he was aimless and plagued with self-doubt and insecurities. Dyed his hair blonde like a fifteen year old girl trying to find herself. Spent time snarking and generally doing little work while getting paid for it.

He remembers the time when he was friends with Jim. Before things were heated and before he thought he was better than him. The would go grab beers with each other and throw friendly jokes at each other. He even helped him out with a prank or two. But that was when he was the temp.

He remembers thinking Pam was cute but Kelly was sluttier. And more entertaining. And Ryan craved that raw entertainment. Pam was all beige colors and thoughtful glances and he thought there was more to her, but he was young and couldn't find the time to dig it all out of her.

Then he was rich, then he was on top. And he was better than Scranton. He was New York trash and he liked it that way. Until he didn't. There's blackouts, and then there's the year he spent in and out of haze. He used to smoke pot after work in his car, but all he could see now was the magic white lines that made him feel invincible. When he fell, he fell like Lucifer. Disgraced, ridiculed by all the other angels. But that's okay, Ryan says to himself. That's okay, because he'll be back on top, and when he is, they'll all pay for what they said and did to him.

Then there's the time when he just, stopped caring. Michael asks him to come work for him. So he does. And he and Pam bicker, and Michael is annoyed and they make their first sale and he feels the first pangs of accomplishment and pride that he's felt in a while. Okay, maybe he can do this whole sober thing. Maybe he and Michael and Pam will become an unstoppable force, and maybe they'll find their way to the top and it'll be this little success-story and David Fincher or Martin Scorsese will make a film about them.

Wrong.

He ends up as a temp again. Sitting in the annex with Kelly. Right back to where he started. Yeah, karma is a real thing. But he's like a chameleon, he changes colors and changes personalties like Pam changes the way she wears her hair. Every so often. Fuck Pam. Fuck her, and fuck Jim.

And then it's like all of it starts to unravel and he doesn't even really give a shit. He's stuck just falling out of sorts. Nobody takes him seriously, he's a felon. He has a girlfriend who he only loves sometimes, and he lives with his parents. And he doesn't give a fuck. God knows all he wants to do is write poetry and take pictures of pretty girls doing pretty things. Sometimes Erin comes along with he and Kelly and it feels a little like highschool because the three of them are really, really immature.

Fucking the rest of the world has their shit together, and he's sitting here wondering if the peak they all talk about was three years to a lifetime ago. All Ryan knows is Kelly and their fucked up relationship. Good sex, bad everything else.

She's going to get married to an Indian doctor, who is successful and better than him. Someone her parents approve of. Someone too many shades of boring for Kelly. But she'll be happy. Does he love Kelly? If he did, he'd let her go. Fuck he doesn't love her. (Does he?)

The time after really blows, he'd love some blow right now, and maybe it'll get better, but fuck, when?

There's a time before and a time at the top and a time afterwards. His life as been average and then too much and then not enough. He'll run away from Kelly and then run away with her. He'll hate Jim and Pam and think Michael is an idiot and then screw his life up again.

Destructive would be the right word. That's what a therapist would tell him right? He has destructive tendencies? Fuck therapists, he's not crazy. It's the world that's crazy, not him.


End file.
